Metamorphosis
by Ravena Darkwing
Summary: She was worthless, a nothing. Then he came into her life like a guiding light through the darkness and showed her just how strongly a bond between Master and Apprentice can be forged. features Kit Fisto


**Metamorphosis**

_Mirrorverse : Book 01_

Chapter 01 – The Nothing

The sizzling sound of lightsabers in combat greeted the Nautolan Jedi Master as he entered one of the training rooms. Others already lined the walls and sidelines, watching as the students competed before them for position of Padawan. Some were nearly thirteen and this match meant more to them than the other students could comprehend. They made the cut or they left the temple.

The two who were dueling at the present moment were a boy and a girl. The boy seemed a little overconfident, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a couple lessons on modesty by the right tutor. However, he seemed to rely too much on his own physical prowess like a soldier, than the flow of the force like a Jedi. It was almost a shock to see the size of the girl. She was very small, giving the impression that she might have been just as frail, but seeing as though she was a student at the academy was proof enough that she could hold her own.

They both fought with ferocity of will that most _adults_ could not honestly say they possessed. In his opinion they were both equally suited to meet with success. As he caught himself judging their abilities he reminded himself that picking a student was not his objective today, if ever. It was to find a newly appointed Jedi Master.

He weaved his way through a small cluster of students watching the competition and caught sight of the Jedi he was looking for. Talfryn Shala. He was still quite young, and some might had questioned his placement as Master.

The smallest of smiles graced Shala's face as he approached, his gentle grey eyes filled with pleasant surprise. "Why, if it isn't Kit Fisto. It's been a long time, friend."

"It has, perhaps too long." The Nautolan replied.

"That's the way it is though." Shala said with a shrug, "us Jedi, always busy beating back that coming dark."

Wasn't _that_ the truth. It was always a new evil, a new intergalactic danger that threatened to bring down everything stable and good.

"You're a Master now. Congratulations."

"Thanks. I didn't think it would come this soon, but the council thought I deserved it."

"You do deserve it." Kit agreed, turning his attention to the two battling in the center of the room. "Are you picking your first Padawan?"

"Maybe. I'm watching today's batch. There hasn't been that many today, but there's always time. Speaking of, I thought you said you weren't going to take another student."

"I'm not." Two simple words. A truth.

"Sure, you're not." Shala's smug grin increased ten fold. "Then why are you here?"

"To find you. I have to talk to you about something. It concerns the last mission I was sent on. Something is off, and I was sure that you could tell me what it was."

"Little old me?" Shala exclaimed. "I'm so excited and I can barely stand it. _First_ I'm given Master status, and _now_ the elusive Kit Fisto asks for _my_ advice." He paused, allowed his visage to melt back into seriousness. Although a moment of humor might be lightening; it was obvious something grave had happened. "So, what's wrong?"

As the two spoke Shala's expression began to match his comrade's, grave and concerned. Something _was_ off, but nobody else seemed to notice their troubles as the fight went on…

XXX

Twelve-year-old Gemma Jovahn had her own troubles. The first, and not necessarily the one at the top of the priorities list, was the fact she was desperately small for her age. Her thirteenth birthday was in three weeks and she _maybe_ appeared to be ten at best. Her second problem tied into the first problem. Her birthday was in three weeks. Soon she would be thirteen and if she didn't have a Master she would be reassigned somewhere else.

But she was hopeful. She had been told many times that she had a strong and preserving character. That was a plus for a Jedi. Physical strength meant nothing when faced down with the force, which she also felt she was quite powerful in. Of course, she would probably never reach the levels at which many of the Jedi Masters and Knights held now, but she felt worthy of carrying the title.

However, at the moment it didn't seem that physical prowess was as weak as she had been led to believe. Her opponent was Garek Khai, a fairly talented lightsaber duelist. Each strike of his saber sent shivers of power through her slender frame as she blocked, trying to keep it at bay.

**She. Could. Not. Lose. **Not today. She had to show that size didn't reflect talent.

She blocked once more, came out of it with a swing that nearly caught Garek in the side, but he dodged. He came down with a hit of his own, one that – if it had been successful – would have caused a great deal of damage, even with a training saber.

"What are you trying to do, kill me?" She whispered quickly so that the teachers and other masters could not hear. She didn't want to get Garek in trouble. He was a nice kid, one of the ones that didn't treat her like dirt on his shoe. He deserved to be taken in, too, but if they figured out that that swipe was intentional instead of just bad aim he'd be automatically disqualified from their minds. '_Too angry_,' they would say, '_too desperate_.'

They both could not win, but they could at least make a good fight of it, both come out looking good. Victory didn't mean one was better. There were plenty of times talented Jedi lost. It was the will of the force for some things to happen. When it wanted you to win, it would let you win, but the game had to be played fair. Was Garek capable of fair at the moment? Whilst her birthday was in three weeks, Garek's was in two days. He had a heck of a lot more on the line, but that didn't give him the right to be pulling moves like that one.

She decided to try a new tactic.

XXX

"She's backing down."

"Huh?" Shala inquired. For the last few minutes the two Jedi Masters had been lost in their own thoughts. The sudden spoken comment both startled and confused Shala.

"The girl." Kit elaborated, not taking his attention off the dueling student. "She had been defending perfectly, setting up for an offensive strike, but now it seems like she had stopped trying."

Talfryn Shala turned his attention to the floor. The girl – Gemma Jovahn – was purposely missing blows. She might not have realized that others could tell, but to the trained fighter it was obvious that she was not putting her true ability into the confrontation. Then Shala noticed something else. "She's let go of the force, too. Why would she do a thing like that?"

Kit had a suspicion, but he decided to wait to voice it.

Khai spun, slammed his saber down against Jovahn's. The crackling was violent, and the girl was forced into holding the two sabers up. She trembled from the exertion it took to hold the blades away from her.

In seconds it was over. Khai released his hold, but only to bring his training saber down again, and with a viciousness most unbecoming of a Jedi student. The force at which he hit the girl was too much. His blade missed hers, slammed into the hilt and brushed her hands. She dropped her saber, a cry emerging from her lips for the first time. She was thrown back onto the floor, cradling her injured hand to her chest. Complete astonishment registered on her face.

Garek Khai had won the match, but as he turned and saw the reaction to his methods he realized that he had lost everything in doing so. He was in trouble, and his anger at himself was as apparent as the girl's shock. He sagged in resignation, murmuring something to her, then turned and walked away. Kit didn't miss noticing the way her eyes softened in sorrow at her retreating aggressor.

"Well, there's one I don't have to worry about choosing." Shala commented. "He's much too desperate."

Kit watched as the girl was helped to her feet, then as her wound was tended to. She didn't so much as flinch, although her hand must have been in a good deal of pain. "Who is the girl?"

"Name's Gemma Jovahn. She's twelve, believe it or not. She catches a lot of shtick from some of the other kids, but she's good about it. She never even throws back a comment, just takes it and walks away. I'd choose her, but it would be out of pity and that would help neither of us."

"It would be unfair." Kit said. Gemma was all taken care of now. She quietly slipped from the training room and disappeared into the hallway.

"You're interested in her, aren't you?" Shala asked, but it was more of an observation than a question. "_Not taking a student, whatever."_

If there had ever been a true withering look it would have been the one Kit gave Talfryn at that moment.

XXX

Shadows danced along the edges of the Garden. Gemma Jovahn watched the quiet coming of darkness from her perch underneath a droopy-leafed tree. There was something about the silent solitude that calmed and cleared the head when it was embraced. Maybe it was because she and the darkness had something in common. Loneliness.

She supposed she could trace everything back to the flaw in her genetics, but that would be unfair. Being small didn't cause her problems. Small wouldn't matter if she had the strength to stand up to those who treated her horribly. They picked on her because she wasn't courageous enough to tell them to stop.

Sometimes all she wanted to do was crawl in a hole somewhere and vanish from this life. So far she hadn't been whisked away into a happier, easier existence. Then again, perhaps that wasn't her lot in life, to be happy. She was a student at the Jedi Temple, and during the nine years she had studied there she had found that a Jedi's life was not about luxury, and certainly not the easy way.

Content fit a Jedi's life much better than happy, but she would the million credits she didn't own that none of them had ever examined the definitions of those words and applied them to their lives. Maybe that's why she would never cut it as a Jedi. With thoughts like that how could she ever truly be worthy of their ranks?

Why was she thinking of these things anyway? She should have been reveling in her gifts and the fortunate destiny of even being chosen to attend such a prestigious school as the Jedi Academy. She had been chosen to be one of the elite – _if_ she could make it.

Then why wasn't she excited about that? Why was she so unhappy with her existence?

_Because I'm a failure. _She told herself. She miserably dropped her head into her hands to think. Inside she had realized that she was weak, that no one would ever train such an untalented, troubled mess as her. Why should they care? She didn't half the time.

For so many years she had ignored the harsh words of her nastier classmates, the words that tried to convince her that she would remain a nothing her entire life, that she wasn't good enough to become a Jedi. She'd wind up at some intergalactic farm, or if she was lucky, a healer somewhere. Now, she beginning to think they were right, and in a couple weeks she'd be making that last trip: to the reassignment spire.

She was about to be uprooted from the only life that meant anything to her, and she was too weak to bring it back. There would be no salvaging of her dreams. The greatest sorrow came from the knowledge that dreams were just that. Rarely did you get what you truly desired. Maybe it was too much to ask for her to become a Knight.

Was this feeling that was moving through her despair?

She would have laughed at herself if it weren't such a desperate situation.

_Enough of this self-pity, _she thought_. It's pathetic. _

She leaned back against the cool grass and spread her arms out. She knew she was being too cynical, but it was hard to look at the bright side when everything was falling apart. Not only had her future been compromised, but Garek had also ruined _his_. It would take a miracle for someone to want him as his or her Padawan now. _Why'd you do it like that, Khai?_

"Well, well, well, look who've we've found."

Gemma turned her gaze upon a small posse of fellow students. The speaker, and leader, was Jericho Koile. He thought he was the best and brightest the universe had to offer. In thinking that he also believed it was his duty and his right to make everyone he considered lower than him feel miserable.

"Hello, Jericho, how may I help you this fine afternoon?"

"Well, apparently you can't help me with anything. Can't even help yourself." He pointed at her injured hand. "My, my, did we pull off a surprisingly horrible fight this afternoon."

"Its not the way it seemed." Gemma said.

"Right, so you didn't completely lose. It was just pretend. Yeah, pipsqueak, we believe that." He laughed, and so did his two cronies.

"Please don't call me that."

Jericho smirked. "All right, small fry. We won't call you pipsqueak anymore. I do have to ask however, how did you pull off such a mess of a battle? And Garek? I didn't think he had it in him. He got himself kicked right out with only two days left before his birthday."

Gemma felt a darkness swallow part of her soul. Garek had been kicked out! She thought perhaps he would get one hell of a lecture, but she never thought he would be given the boot. She held back the urge to snap. Jericho's comment angered her. Garek had thrown his life away in desperation and these thugs were making a joke of it. It was cruel of them.

"Aw. You going to cry there, Jovahn?" He prodded.

"Probably, she's as small as a baby, she probably cries like one, too." His best friend, Jansen Steele commented, edging another laugh from the trio.

Gemma tried to ignore that. She knew that they were too dumb to realize the truth about the actual look on her face. It wasn't one of a person who was about to burst into tears, but of someone who was about to be pushed just a little too far. It didn't matter what others said about her -- she was used to it -- but when they gained pleasure from the ruination of another...

"Can you leave me alone now, please?" Gemma inquired. "I'm trying to meditate."

"Heh, give it up, Gems." Kraeton Hitto scoffed. "We all know you're never going to amount to anything. After today's spill do you think anyone will want you? You're so _pathetic_."

"At least I'm not a fool." She murmured.

"What was that?

She hadn't meant to say it aloud, but it had just come up. She had spit it up like she had been sick with the words. "Nothing."

"I think she called us _fools_ boys." Jericho growled, yanking her to her feet. "You know, usually I wouldn't let someone get off with talking to us like that, but it's a waste of time with you. You'll be gone in three weeks anyway." He shoved her down again, _hard_.

As they walked away she could feel the tears they had so wanted to see welling in her eyes. His comment had stung more than any slap or punch could have.

_You'll be gone in three weeks anyway._

He was probably right, and she couldn't do a thing to stop it.

* * *

Alrighty then. That's the first installment of my new series Mirrorverse. Metamorphosis is the first in a trilogy of novellas, followed by another trilogy of short stories. Exciting, no? Actually it might be boring right now, but just to keep you going -

What problem was being discussed with Master Shala? What will happen to poor little Gemma? And why, why, is Jericho such an ass? (Ok, so the latter might never be answered, but we could try.)

Another note. Talfryn Shala is a character I stole from my other series, Masters of Fate. He's just such a wonderful character that I can't just shove him in one storyline. So, if you're interested in a chapter two of this thing let me know. I work a lot, but I'll try to click-clack it out on my computer as soon as I can.

- Ravena.


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